NEWARK — Vintage Boy Scout pictures line the wall of Julio Balde’s office, a museum of Scout memorabilia and the history of Newark Troop 102.

The largest is mural-like with the Scout motto — "Be Prepared" — staring at you in bold letters. Dozens of international Scout figurines — Italy, El Salvador, India, Ireland, the United States — stand side-by-side on a shelf holding the flags of their countries.

The original charter from 1942 hangs in this hidden archive; the troop’s 25th anniversary program is present, too. Meticulously labeled is a file cabinet with merit badge forms, Scout transfer forms, association forms. There are photo albums of old newspaper clippings, mixed among black and white Scout pictures at campgrounds.

And that’s where you see Balde, a young man and proud scoutmaster of Troop 102. He looks back at himself, flanked by Eagle Scouts. Except for his age, nothing much has changed in the 69 years he’s been running the troop.

Balde, who turned 90 Friday, is still the same proud scoutmaster of that troop and is just as involved in removing ticks and teaching kids how to tie 2½-inch knots and what to do if someone goes into shock.

His hair, combed backward, has gone from black to white, and his gait is a lot slower, but Balde quickly hikes his pants at the waist to get moving so he can lead Scout meetings every Wednesday at Immaculate Heart of Mary Church in the Ironbound section of Newark.

"I just love it," he says, his eyes looking at you through wide glass lenses.

With his shoulders back, posture slightly bent from age, Balde walks back and forth, looking over his young troop as a drill sergeant would an Army private. Three fingers up, they recite the oath, then Balde oversees inspection. The disciplinarian and task master is in rare form this night, wearing his yellow Scout tie and olive-colored Scout shirt adorned with badges and council affiliation.

"Where’s your patrol?" he asks, his voice rising, of one of the Scouts.

"They’re not here," the young boy replies, meekly.

The 16-member troop appreciates his wisdom, so they don’t mind if he comes across grumpy at times. "He teaches us to care, how to help others, how to have a kind heart, how to act like Scouts," says Jose Leonardo, 13.

Starting with a lesson in Scout’s honor. Once a contingent of Essex County Scouts was returning from a 1962 jamboree in Colorado and stopped at Niagara Falls. Balde knew some of the boys would buy fireworks on the Canadian side.

"He said ‘All right’ and held out a bag for us to put the fireworks in," said Malcolm Ginsberg, one of the Scouts on the trip. "Then he said, ‘This is a burial at sea,’ and he dropped it in the water."

Over the years, Balde’s troops have produced 43 Eagle Scouts, eight of them attaining Scouting’s highest honor at one time in 1962. Second and third generations have come under his guidance, and they’ve gone on to be dentists, lawyers, doctors, police officers in Newark. This scoutmaster has been at it so long, you never know when or where his impact shows up.

"Hey, Mr. Balde."

It’s a common scene. Two former Scouts, now college kids, bump into him by chance recently in the Ironbound. He’s leaning against his 1994 Chevy Blazer waiting for his troop to show up for a camping trip. An American flag on the hood flails in the wind. Scout emblems are on the back window, the name of the troop and scoutmaster title just under the license plate. Sometimes, he says, people toot their horns when they see him.

"A lot of the leadership abilities I have today were instilled in me by the Boy Scouts and this man," says Christopher Auriemma, 20, of Newark, a junior at New Jersey Institute of Technology. "He’s got some kind of passion for the Boy Scouts."

They shoot the breeze for a minute. He tells them he’s hitting 90, then they learn he’s been honored by the Scouts’ Northern New Jersey Council for his longevity and dedication to youth for so many years.

"He’s a unique man," says Chris Dufford, assistant council commissioner. "He’s at an age where he can’t give up. He wouldn’t last long if it wasn’t for that troop. If he stays scoutmaster, it will be until he’s gone from this earth."

While it is unusual, it’s not out of the ordinary for someone Balde’s age to be involved in Scouting. Renee Fairrer, manager of public relations for the national office of the Boys Scouts of America, says Balde is one of 319 people in Scouting with 70 or more years of continuous registration in the country. One man in Pennsylvania, she says, has put in 90 years.

They may be on the books, but whether they’re in the mix as much as Balde is not clear. What is true, however, is that Scouting keeps them active and feeling young on some level, making the ills of getting old go away. As it did with Balde.

Eric Adams, his assistant scoutmaster, remembers how Balde talked about his ailments until they beefed up the ranks beyond six troop members in 2007.

"The more boys we got, you started seeing him complain less," Adams says. "It seems like the more involved in Scouting he gets, the healthier he gets. He comes alive. There’s no sign of him slowing down."

Balde’s only wish is for Scouts to be more active helping out with disasters and police departments, as they did during World War II. It saddens him they don’t. He just wants his boys to "do a good turn daily" and not expect anything in return — just as he was taught when he became a Scout in 1935.

He’s old school, preferring to add by hand to figure things out. He’ll use a compass instead of GPS or a cell phone, start a fire with twigs instead of a lighter. And he still hands out Spam — yum — for breakfast when they pitch a tent.

"It’s about survival," he says. "That’s what we’re trying to teach these boys."

Balde, who was married nearly 50 years to his wife, Joan, who is now deceased, lives in Nutley with his daughter. For nearly half his life, he was a trade show coordinator, setting up displays at exhibitions for companies across the country.In his scant spare time, Balde paints by numbers to relax.

But Troop 102 will always be his baby. Scouting will always be his life until it’s time to put this simple inscription, "Julio Balde, Scoutmaster," on his tombstone.